


Juniper Sweater

by yeaka



Category: Juniper Cogs, Original Work
Genre: Androids, Established Relationship, Juniper Cogs - Freeform, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-07 01:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10348959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: After always wearing Ayodele’s shirts, Chikeru’s own arrive.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is an extra vignette for my erotica short story on Kindle, Juniper Cogs. (Which I can’t link here because of Ao3’s commercial policies but is on my tumblr.)
> 
> Disclaimer: I actually do own the source material! But I’m still not making any money off this particular thing.

It’ll need some alterations.

The boxers are snug, but that material has more give to it, and there’s less space to cover. Grey and plain, they cling to Chikeru’s crotch and only make it a few centimeters down his thighs. The tunic, short-sleeved, bright yellow, and ordered to Chikeru’s measurements, still has too much room in the shoulders and falls a little too far past his waist. Ayodele gives the shoulder seams a tug here and there, trying to determine just where he’ll be fixing it, but then Chikeru twitches and it’s all for naught. Ayodele gives the bottom a final pull, then steps back to observe. On himself, he doesn’t care how clothes fit. On Chikeru...

He feels some bizarre, nonsensical responsibility to care about the things Chikeru doesn’t know he should. Chikeru spreads his arms and glances down at himself with a little frown, as displeased as he’s looked since the box arrived. Ayodele assumes he’s waiting for approval, like he does with so many things, so Ayodele grunts, “It’ll do.” It’s one of a dozen shirts. He’s held off on bottoms because he’s not sure which kind are best yet, or even if he really _wants_ Chikeru to have those.

Chikeru wrinkles his nose and straightens up again, responding around an uncharacteristic pout, “Okay.”

Ayodele lifts an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Chikeru twitches again and elaborates, “If you like it, I like it.”

Except that he doesn’t look like he likes it, and Ayodele already knows he’s found one of the few androids out there capable of _lying_. He waits a moment or two, giving Chikeru time to come clean, then has to press, “What’s wrong?”

Chikeru opens his mouth, maybe to say ‘nothing,’ then seems to think better of lying again and closes it. As Ayodele’s a patient man—and has plenty of time to kill out in their own middle-of-nowhere—he just leans back and crosses his arms, making it clear they’re not going anywhere until he gets some answers.

Eventually, Chikeru breaks, screwing up his perfectly symmetrical face and whining, “I just like your clothes _better_ , Master.”

Ayodele snorts—he should’ve known. “My clothes don’t fit you.”

“But they _smell_ like you.”

“They’re too big—my trousers won’t even stay up on you.”

“I do not need trousers: they impede my primary function.” And he drops one hand to pick at one leg of his boxers, which must also seem a hindrance. That’s part of why Ayodele at least ordered _something_ to put there—he has enough temptation to do nothing but _Chikeru_ all day.

He insists, “You’re keeping them,” and Chikeru wilts like a crushed flower. At that moment, Ayodele thinks he can understand why future models have had certain features filtered out. Sometimes, it seems like _Chikeru’s_ the one wrapping _Ayodele_ around his little finger.

With a compromising sigh, he reaches out to hook one finger in the hem of Chikeru’s boxers, pulling them away from his stomach and tugging him closer by it—Chikeru goes happily, brightening again in a heartbeat. Ayodele concedes, “We’ll make these smell like me too.”

Chikeru chirps, “Okay,” and all but leaps up to kiss him.


End file.
